Versus Wild
by Bagting Hangin
Summary: Their location had all the prerequisites of a tropical getaway: clear blue waters, white sand beach, coconut trees, crashed plane still smoking from their recent crash onto this island… okay, maybe not that one.
1. Chapter 1

Their location had all the prerequisites of a tropical getaway: clear blue waters, white sand beach, coconut trees, crashed plane still smoking from their recent crash onto this island… okay, maybe not that one. Molly dug into the pocket of her shorts and pulled out her iPhone. She sighed. The screen was broken and on her palm were miniscule smithereens like fine sugar.

She had fainted, Sherlock had explained, so he had to carry her away from the plane to relative safety on the beach, beneath some coconut trees. It was almost a good thing that John wasn't with them. Mary was ready to give birth any moment and of course John chose her over this case (started as a ten, ended a three. Sherlock had been furious).

Sherlock had been piloting the plane when lightning hit it and, according to Sherlock, one of the laterals failed so they had to make an emergency landing. The navigation system and the comms were damaged by the lightning strike, too, so they had no idea where they were. All Molly knew was that they were on what looked like a big island, and Sherlock told her to stay put on the beach while he went back to the plane to see if he could salvage anything useable.

Molly stood up from where she was sat on the sand and looked around her. It wouldn't do for her to just sit around and wait for him to come back. She was hungry and there were palm, bamboo, banana and coconut trees. There was work to do.

o-o-o

It was almost sunset when Sherlock came back, and when he found Molly, he was pleasantly surprised to find that not only had Molly made them a makeshift shelter out of palm leaves she'd woven together, she'd also gathered some young coconuts which would have coconut meat for them to eat and potable coconut water for them to drink. Molly had also made a fire out of coconut husks and some dried banana leaves, making her little campsite smell fragrant and inviting. She was sitting on the sand with her back to him, crouched in on herself and staring at the fire. He approached her cautiously, not wanting to startle her. "This is amazing, Molly,"

Molly shrugged. "You spend enough nights alone and you learn a thing or two from Bear Grylls,"

Sherlock chuckled. "I suppose," He produced a small machine. It was the plane's radio transceiver. "I managed to separate it from the rest of the plane's comms and I think I'll be able to get it to work, but I'll have to cannibalize my watch for it. I'd do it now but," he gestured to the sun which was setting on the horizon.

Molly nodded and gave him a small smile. "It's okay. You can work on it tomorrow." She reached for one of the young coconuts and carefully broke it open from the top with a wedge-shaped rock, so that the drinkable water would not spill. She then handed it to Sherlock before going back to her previous sitting position, staring at the fire. Sherlock murmured his thanks and they spent the next few minutes in the quiet, warming themselves with the makeshift hearth.

It was Molly who broke the silence. "It's weird, but I have the strangest craving for sashimi right now. I don't even like fish,"

Sherlock chuckled again. "Well, that's good,"

Molly looked at him puzzledly. Sherlock pointed at the full moon that was rising in the opposite side of the sky. "When I was hunting down Moriarty's men, I learned to survive in the wild. I had to do. Anyway, a full moon means fish, so if you feel like sashimi, you need only wait a few more hours for the moon to rise above our heads,"

Molly smiled at the sky, closed her eyes, and hummed in contentment despite the situation they were in. At least she wasn't worrying about Sherlock's safety; they were facing the same dangers after all. "I never got to that episode." She shivered as a sudden gust of cold night wind hit her. Her sleeveless top and her shorts weren't any protection at all. She threw a few dry coconut husks into the fire and ran her palms over her skin to warm herself. The next moment, a familiar scent accompanied by an unfamiliar but not unwelcome warmth enveloped her. Sherlock had scooched closer and had taken off the Belstaff, covering the both of them.

"This could have gone so much worse," Sherlock commented.

Molly nudged him on the shoulder. "Oh? How?"

Sherlock wrapped his arms around her and held her closer. "I could have gotten stuck here with Mycroft."

"For your sake, I hope there are no cameras here, " she teased.

o-o-o

Meanwhile, back in London, Mummy and Mycroft were surveilling Sherlock and Molly in real time via wireless webcams that were apparently watching from the tops of trees.

"Mummy, I do think we should send reconaissance there ASAP. Who knows what diseases they might catch there,"

"Pass me the popcorn, Mycroft."

"Yes, Mummy."


	2. Chapter 2

Please read this first.

a/n: Listen to this when you get to... you know when.

o-o-o-o

Molly lifted her gaze from the fire she and Sherlock were huddled in front of and checked on the detective sitting by her side. Her cheeks warmed. She quickly averted her eyes from him again, focusing on their makeshift hearth. She shouldn't be glad to be here alone with him. How pathetic is that?

"You're thinking too loud, Molly," Sherlock commented.

Molly ducked her head. "I'm sorry. I was just... I was just... Sorry, Sherlock."

Sherlock's arm, which had been around her middle, changed positions a bit so that his hand was on her shoulder. She felt a couple of light pats on her back. "I like that you think. John hardly does," he joked, a grin lifting the side of his mouth that she could see.

That made Molly snicker. "I honestly don't know how you and John are still friends. You're so mean," she teased.

Sherlock looked up at the starry night sky. "I'm just fortunate, I suppose." He lowered his gaze and turned to her, looking as if he were observing her. Molly lowered her eyes again. Mustn't read into it, she thought. He just has nobody else to talk to. Yeah, that's it. _Then shouldn't you enjoy this while this lasts?_ A small, chiding voice asked her in her mind. Molly closed her eyes. Great. I always knew he would drive me mad one day, but did it really have to be now?!

"The stars are up," Sherlock observed. "Do you want me to catch you some fish now? I'm sure it'll be great with the coconut water,"

Molly, desperate for some time to think, nodded even though she wasn't hungry. Maybe she'll be hungry by the time he got back.

Sherlock flashed her a big smile - that rare one she'd only ever seen him use around John - the real one where his eyes crinkled and she could see his perfect teeth aligned perfectly behind his Cupid's bow lips. "All right. I'll be right back, then," He then started stripping.

"Hey! What-"

Sherlock looked at her blankly, then started explaining as one would to a child. "I'm going to go in the water. These are my only clean clothes. If I get them wet -"

Molly's cheeks flamed. She quickly turned around so that her back was back to him. She crossed her arms over her chest as she heard him chuckle at her reaction. _Git_.

After what felt to her like an hour, she slowly turned herself around on the sand so that she could see his far-off image in the water several meters away. When she saw him wave at her, she waved back shyly, fighting down another blush that threatened to come on. Well... almost, when she saw that he was actually signalling that he'd caught a medium-sized fish and that he was on his way back.

"I'm afraid this kind of fish won't make for good sashimi," Sherlock said as he approached, his tone a mix of pride and embarrassment both as he presented her with a largehead hairtail.

Molly gaped at the fish, then at him in his pants. She shook her head to clear it before asking, "How did you even..?"

Sherlock shrugged. "This is a deserted island, obvious from the total lack of light pollution from the far end of the island behind us. This fish is a predator at the top of its food chain. It wasn't expecting to be prey and let me near it."

Molly's stomach growled, quashing any thoughts of mercy on the animal. "I know just what to do with him,"

Sherlock gave her another teasing grin. "Him?"

Molly grinned back. "Jealous?"

That made Sherlock laugh out loud. "Me? Jealous of a beltfish? No,"

Molly joined him in his laughter. "You're really too smug for your own good, you know? Come on, give him to me,"

"Him?"

Molly took the fish with one hand before lightly hitting Sherlock on the arm with the free one. "Shut up! And get dressed or you'll catch cold!"

A self-satisfied Sherlock decided to forego dressing and stretched in front of the fire instead.

Molly heaved a sigh, shook her head, turned her back to him and set to work. Using the midrib of a coconut tree leaf that Molly had carefully taken apart to leave sharp edges and then dried in the summer sun to harden earlier in the day, Molly gutted the fish and skewered it before sticking the blunt end of the midrib into the sand so that the wide side of the beltfish was stood with its side in indirect contact with the fire's heat. She watched the fish cook where she sat next to the fire, the flames in between her and the detective. As she observed the fish, she hummed a song she liked, happy to be doing something with herself instead of worrying about the broken transceiver and whether or not Sherlock will be able to fix it the next day.

"What are you humming?" Sherlock asked. "I think I know that!" He exclaimed as he dressed himself.

"You do not!" Molly countered. Molly was about to give him a challenging look when she saw what he was doing and quickly looked away again, schooling herself to stare at their food.

A thankfully already-dressed Sherlock sat beside her. "I do know that song. Fancy a wager?" he dared, grin firmly on his face.

Molly studiously avoided looking at him. "I don't have any money,"

Sherlock turned the other way so he could stretch his legs away from the fire. "Neither do I. We could bet the fish. I don't care. I don't need to eat just yet anyway," he said casually.

Molly's stomach growled again.

"I'll take that as a yes," Sherlock ribbed.

Molly leaned back, her head settling on Sherlock's still-wet shoulder. "Fine. That fish is as good as mine,"

"Wouldn't bet on it."

"You just did."

"Will you sing already?" Sherlock demanded.

Molly straightened her posture and cleared her throat. She then turned around on the sand to face Sherlock.

_When they say you can't love, I think you've got it wrong_  
_They say you can't feel, with a heart made of steel_  
_But you can't say that steel ain't strong_  
_Well if that's who you are, just a meaningless star in the sky_  
_Tell me what is the meaning of what I am feeling if you are the reason why?_  
_Now I may be dumb_  
_But where I come from_  
_Folks say they're fine when I know that they're blue_  
_But you don't know you_  
_The way I do_

She watched as his face took on a blank expression. She was about to reach for the fish when his hand stopped hers. If his hand on her own surprised her, that feeling had nothing on the feeling she got when he opened his mouth and started _singing_.

**Your kind is frail and weak, and I want to destroy you all**  
**You're a sorry disgrace, to the concept of race**  
**And to logical science and law**  
**But for some reason why, when you look at me I don't wanna be**  
**Programmed this way, believe when I say**  
**You're the one anomaly**  
**You might not be smart**  
**But there is a part of me**  
**That's starting to make a break through**  
**No, you don't know you**  
**The way I do**

Molly covered her mouth with her hands to cover her excited smile. "How...?" She asked once she found the words to force out of her mouth.

Sherlock's (playful?) grin was back. "Youtube, just like you."

He lowered his eyes to their joined hands in between them. Molly felt that he was about to withdraw his hand from hers so she held on to it with her other one, her face looking up at his, continuing her song.

_I never expected... _She gave him a small smile and looked at him hopefully.

Sherlock looked into her eyes, smiled, and picked up where he was supposed to.

**(My wires are protected from abnormal things like you)**  
_To find, someone like you_  
_(_**When you know everything, it is suddenly strange when you don't have a clue!)**

Molly looked at their joined hands before looking up at Sherlock again.  
_I don't know anything, but you're giving me a clue._

_I can see past, the, surface_  
_Finding the worth that is hiding beneath_  
_You're life, and, purpose_  
_And all of a sudden I feel like I've run into something that no one has seen!_

Molly looked into Sherlock's eyes and reached out to touch his face.

_You're perfect and wonderful_  
_How I hoped you'd be, _she sang to him.

**(Oh, my Molly, I…)**

Molly shook her head.

_But it's really enough_  
_For you to be just a human being._

She saw Sherlock lower his head, looking hesitant.  
**(There's something I need to tell you)**

Molly leaned in, wordlessly asking him to accept her love, hoping he will.  
_And I'll know you'll agree_  
_That's all we need to make our dreams come true_

Sherlock pulled away, the contact of their hands breaking as he stood, his back to her.  
**(You're a dream come true, but I need to share something with you)**

Molly stood up, carefully approaching him, staying just an arm's length away.  
_If this life has an ending, I'm glad that I'm spending this short little time with you. I'm so much more, than what you've thought before._

She touched his arm.

**(So much more than what we have gotten to)**  
_Get to know you_  
_You don't know you_  
**(But you don't know me)**

_The way I do._

He shook his head at her, his eyes contrite. Molly felt like her heart was dying.

Sherlock took both of her hands in his and squeezed them lightly as if in apology before he walked away from the light of the fire, and her, away into the night.

o-o-o

Mummy turned her eldest son, the British Government. "You can send recon now. Sorry for making you wait, Mikey,"

Mycroft tilted his head, squinting at the screen. "Hmm... Let's give them more time. Even Sherlock can figure this out,"

Mummy reached for her son's hand, giving it a squeeze and then patting it. "Very well. Call your father."

"Good idea. I'll have Anthea pick him up."


	3. Chapter 3

"You coward," Molly accused as Sherlock walked away from her. "What are you so afraid of?!"

Sherlock stopped in his tracks. "I'm not perfect, Molly. Far from it."

"Nobody knows that more than I do!" Molly countered. "You're selfish, inconsiderate, and a thousand other negative things! Just because I am in love with you doesn't mean I have forgotten about all of those things!"

"Then why do you still bother?" Sherlock asked softly. He'd fallen on his knees in the sand, his head bowed and his hands tightly gripping his folded knees.

Molly walked the few paces it took to get to Sherlock and sat down beside him. "I became a pathologist because nobody could explain how my mother just dropped dead one morning. She was making breakfast for me and my dad when it happened. She fell down and died. That was it. It was a brain aneurism, according to the doctors. My mother had a ticking time bomb in her brain. I'm lucky her death was simple as things go. The doctors were able to give my dad and I the answers we needed to make peace with her passing. You," she smiled as she touched his arm, "You go out of your way and you use your brilliance to give peace to people whose families have lost loved ones to murderers. You return kidnap victims to the people who love them. You keep history right by finding artifacts people have given up on as lost for good." She looked up again. "No matter what you think of yourself, I will always think of you as a good man."

Sherlock gathered his knees up and hugged his legs to himself. "Things have changed. I've become a mass murderer, Molly. I've killed all the men and women in Moriarty's Web."

"Criminals." Molly dismissed. "I hate to say this, but it was either you, or them. I will always pick you."

Sherlock turned his eyes away from her, as if his gaze alone could sully her. "I've also killed a man in cold blood,"

Molly sighed. "Charles Augustus Magnussen." She said the name like it tasted bitter in her mouth, which of course it did. If she didn't fix this now, Charles Augustus Magnussen would have cost her more in death than he ever could have in life as one of Sherlock's "pressure points". Honestly, what was with intelligent men and all the drama?

Molly rolled her eyes when she saw that Sherlock was now curled up on the sand like a little stink bug, as if the beach were his couch and they were in 221B, herself playing the role of summoned house guest-slash-body-parts-purveyor. "You read those notecards during the wedding. John and Mary's, I mean. When you read that note from Cam, I saw Mary's face pale. I remember what the note said. — I Wish Your Family Could Have Been There To See You, Love CAM — and I figured he got her in trouble or killed her entire family." it wasn't a difficult leap." She met his shocked gaze with an amused one. "Now, Sherlock — do you plan to murder innocent people?" She asked him.

Sherlock shook his head vehemently.

"Then what are you still doing there?" she challenged, a sweet smile on her lips.

Sherlock looked at her, his head tilted to one side like a confused puppy.

Molly rolled her eyes, and then jumped the obstinate man. Right there on the beach, in the absolute dark.

o-o-o

Mycroft finished the last bit of sans rival on his saucer. His parents had long since gone home, jubilant about Molly and Sherlock's new romance and the possibility of grandchildren. Didn't even stay for dessert. RUDE. As for himself, he'd shut off the monitors when his younger brother and the good doctor started kissing. There was really only so much a government needed to know.

That didn't mean though that he was so tactful as to wait a whole day to send reconnaissance. After all, what's a little blackmail between brothers?


End file.
